


Strictly Platonic

by Remembered



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dick Pics, M/M, Shrunkyclunks, Stucky Secret Santa 2016, Stucky secret santa, like so many dick pics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remembered/pseuds/Remembered
Summary: So maybe sending out a text saying, “In the hospital, talk to you later” is not the best thing to send to someone out of context. But, to be fair, Bucky hadn’t had his coffee for the day so there isn’t a lot of higher brain function going on until that happens. This also explains why, when Captain America comes busting into his hospital room with wild eyes all Bucky says is, “What the hell do you want?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okaynowkiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaynowkiss/gifts).



> For http://okaynowkiss.tumblr.com/ in the Stucky Secret Santa 2016 gift exchange! <3

So maybe sending out a text saying, “In the hospital, talk to you later” is not the best thing to send to someone out of context. But, to be fair, Bucky hadn’t had his coffee for the day so there isn’t a lot of higher brain function going on until that happens. This also explains why, when Captain America comes busting into his hospital room with wild eyes all Bucky says is, “What the hell do you want?”

Captain America doesn’t say anything. Instead he stalks over to him and begins hovering his hand over the seam where metal meets flesh.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Bucky says as he slaps his hand away. Now Captain America blushes—like, full on blushes. Face and ears turning pink blushes. Bucky is just on the right side of annoyed that he notices and finds it adorable. He pushes the thought aside and begins to reach for his discarded shirt and pull it back on.

“Oh, no, don’t—I’m so sorry Buck, I was just surprised is all, I didn’t know—“ Captain America stutters and blushes even more and it’s cute enough that Bucky is slightly annoyed that it’s taking away from his anger and general feelings of what-the-fuck when suddenly the voice—his voice—clicks into place and he realizes.

“Oh shit.” He stops moving, his shirt only half on, and keeps his gaze firmly locked toward the ground. “Oh shit.”

Captain America falls silent. Bucky lifts his head and tries to meet his eyes but Captain America is staring off to the right and he can’t believe his fucking luck.

“Please don’t tell me I’ve been exchanging dick pics with Captain America.”

\----

Bucky had been charged with the responsibility of reaching out and connecting with someone new. His therapist called it a ‘challenge’ and Bucky called it a punishment for lying about going to the VA.

“You don’t have to go to the VA if you don’t want to,” she had said with a serene, accepting smile. But the next time she met with him she gave him this bullshit mission so he knows what’s up.

“All I want is for you to be able to talk to someone, anyone, about something light. Give yourself a chance for a small moment of peace, of happiness talking to someone else.”

Bucky figured she meant he should chat up one of his old lady neighbors at the mail boxes, or maybe get on a first name basis with his barista, but Bucky was hit by a startling wave of loneliness at 3 AM one night and found himself in the “Strictly Platonic” section of Craigslist.

Basically, he was horny.

But also, he was pretty lonely.

He scrolled through the postings, laughing to himself about how desperate some of them were, smiling at some of the sweeter thoughts, but never thinking of responding until he clicked on “Why Does Everyone Like Stranger Things?” in a fit of sudden righteous anger.

“Hello. I’m just looking for someone to talk to about Stranger Things. None of my friends have watched it yet and although I’ve done lots of reading about it I still feel like I’m missing something. Please respond if you would like to talk further.”

Bucky is typing out a response before his brain has even begun processing what he is actually doing.

“Now listen here you little shit. I know you’re probably way too young to be posting on this site and that’s why you can’t grasp the true nostalgic brilliance of this story, but that is beside the point. The main point is it is a thriller of a show with an amazing plot line acted out by amazing people that leaves you satisfied and still asking questions enough that you feel a second season is not only warranted, but organically necessary. There are references galore without being pandering, and basically if you don’t get why that show was so great I feel bad for you because missing out on that experience is a truly depressing thought.”

Bucky hits send about .03 seconds before his brain kicks in. His heart rate rockets up for a moment, thudding hard in his veins. He reasons to himself that it’s just the internet, it doesn’t matter, this guy probably put up this posting as a joke or something.

He clicks back and reads the post again. It sounds too…honest to be anything but legit.

He’s just beginning to feel bad when his Gmail pops up with a notification saying he’s gotten an email response. Bucky switches over to his email tab with a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Thanks for the response. Trust me when I say I am definitely old enough to be on this website. But even still I’m missing the ‘nostalgia’ that you reference here. What, specifically, should I be getting from this.”

Bucky reads over the email twice before sighing and hitting the reply button.

He stares at a blank draft for about ten minutes before he closes his eyes and lets his fingers fly over the keys. In a matter of minutes he’s listed out a handful of classic material that had been referenced and explanations of why each of them is so Important. He doesn’t read it over before he hits send.

He slams the laptop shut, feeling exhausted, and heads to bed.

When he wakes up the next morning he has an unread message from that same craigslist email detailing why this asshole thinks the Goonies is overrated. The GOONIES. This guy is just angling for a fight. So Bucky cracks his knuckles, opens a reply, and lays into him.

By the time his next therapy session rolls around Bucky can say smugly that yes, he has indeed reached out to someone in a perfectly healthy way that doesn’t involve thinking of the other person as That Little Shit because he doesn’t know his name. But despite his smug nature the session leaves him feeling wrung out as usual so when he gets a text (yes, they’d traded numbers before names so what) telling him that the Simpsons is mostly awful he only responds with, “Had a rough day, need to relax.”

Half way up the stairs to his apartment a buzz comes from his pocket. He fumbles with the phone, accidentally answering. Bucky curses under his breath and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Barnes.” He states. There’s a beat of silence on the other line, some muttering, before—

“I think maybe I’m just watching the wrong episodes of the Simpsons.” A deep, warm voice chirps happily into his ear. “You need to be more specific with your recommendations. There’s too many seasons of this show for anyone to ever get through.”

Bucky is thrown by the voice on the other line. He hadn’t really thought too much about the person he was talking to other than being generally amused and annoyed by their conversations. But now there was a voice, and that voice was attached to a person, and that person sounded _hot_. Which is why Bucky puts his foot in his mouth and says--  


“I think all you need to do is watch it with me and then you’ll see how funny it is.”

There’s silence on the line.

“I mean, not in person or anything. Like I said, it’s been a rough day. But I assume you know how to use the internet so there’s this website we can use to stream the same video at the same time. I can use it to queue up an episode and show you what good television is.” Bucky realizes he is standing in an open stairwell twiddling with his keys and begins the slow climb back up to his apartment. He can hear his boots clanging on the steps in the silence on the phone.

“Yeah, okay.” The voice on the other line seems hesitant, but Bucky sees an opening and he runs for it.

“I gave you my name, so what do I call you?” There is a choked laugh. “What? What’s wrong with my name?”

“Barnes is your name?”

“Last name.”

“Oh.” More silence. Bucky has made it all the way into his apartment now. He throws his keys on the kitchen counter and moves to the refrigerator to pull out a beer.

“Listen, it’s fine—“

“Rogers.” The voice—Rogers—replies so quietly that Bucky almost misses it over the sound of his bottle popping open. Bucky clears his throat.

“Alright Rogers. I’m giving you five minutes to grab a beer and a snack and then we’re settling in for a Simpson’s marathon.”

“Sure thing, Barnes.” It sounds like Rogers is talking around a smile. They hang up and Bucky takes a big swig from his drink, relishing in the taste and the cool feel of it sliding down his throat. He lets out a contented sigh before moving to pick up his laptop and plug it in by his couch. He sits cross-legged with it resting in his lap has he sends off a message with the rabb.it room URL. Becca was the only other person he’d ever used the service with, but it usually seemed to work well enough. You could stream webcams, microphones, and a show all at once. His computer was new enough that it handled that well and while he waited for Rogers to show he compiled a list of must-watch episodes. When the chime went off signifying another member had joined the room Bucky’s pulse picked up a bit.

“Hello?” Rogers’ voice was just as clear as it had been on the phone, but instead of a camera there was just the default picture of a cute bunny. The juxtaposition made Bucky laugh. “I can hear you, asshole.” Rogers continued.

“Yeah and you can see me too, which I find to be a bit unfair.” Bucky did not fiddle with his hair, as much as he wanted to, and instead smirked into the camera. Rogers laughed. “Maybe I should even the score…” Bucky clicked on the button to shut off his camera and Rogers immediately let out a soft whine. “Aww, like what you see?” Bucky turned the camera back on and winked. He thought he heard a choked off noise but then Rogers spoke.

“I won’t be looking at your ugly mug when we’re watching the show, so what does it matter?”

“Fair enough,” Bucky laughed. “Let’s get started.”

And that’s how Bucky spent what would have been an afternoon of malaise talking over episodes of the Simpsons with a guy who sounded pretty damn hot.

They began to pick up a pattern. They’d text throughout the day—good morning, how are you doing, what the fuck is wrong with Karen you’d think I told her I killed her baby all I said was I wouldn’t water her house plants for her. No, Rogers, that isn’t mean I know I’d just forget and it’s mean to kill someone’s favorite things, alright? No, I promise I’m not just being lazy. Alright, fine! I’ll water her damn plants.

And then they watch things together a couple times a week when their schedules line up. It isn’t always something Bucky suggests either. Steve’s most recent recommendation was a movie about a bunny and a fox and an evil sheep and Bucky goes on for about thirty minutes straight about how awesome it was before he realizes Rogers is laughing at him.

Things progress like that pretty happily until his birthday when Rumlow takes him out drinking and he has one too many. He wakes up the next morning with a killer headache and a feeling of deep unease. His phone is dead and as it charges Bucky goes around shutting all the curtains before stumbling into his darkened kitchen to make coffee. He’s a couple sips in before his phone powers on and he sees his texts to Rogers.

_Hey, you were so wrong about Stranger Things. Admit it_

**_I admit it, Barnes. It is a good show._ **

_Good. Now admit that I look great in a messy bun._

**_You look terrible in a messy bun. You need to cut your hair._ **

He responded with a blurry image, clearly taken in a club bathroom. His face is rosy and he’s flipping off the camera, messy bun clearly in view.

**_See? Terrible. Just like I said._ **

**_Are you out drinking right now?_ **

_Maybe I am._

**_Alright, well, stay safe alright?_ **

_You should come out! We’re down at that bar near SHIELD’s headquarters. I forget what it’s called. But you should come!_

**_I don’t think that’s a good idea, Barnes._ **

_My friends call me Bucky._

**_Alright, Barnes._ **

_You should call me Bucky, too._

**_Alright, Bucky. I’m going to call you a ride, okay?_ **

_What? Noooo. You’re supposed to come meet me!_

**_Maybe another time. Get outside the bar, there will be a car waiting for you in ten minutes._ **

_Booooooo_

_How will they know who I am?_

_Woah, you got a town car to pick me up? SeriouslY? He had the little sign and everything!_

_He said he’ll take me anywhere I want to go, where do you live Rogers?_

_Rogerrrrrrsssss?_

Another image, this time of Bucky sitting in the back seat of a car, sticking out his tongue at the camera. His bun is halfway down.

And then one final image, taken as he’s lying in bed, his hair spread around him in a dark fan, he’s got a loose, warm smile on his face and a blush high in his cheeks, along with one final message:

 _Wish this wwas your bed. ;)_  
  
“Oh god, kill me now.” Bucky groans as he thumps his head on the countertop. And, because he’s never been one to deal with awkward situations well, he ignores his phone for the rest of the day, even though it calls to him like a siren song. He doesn’t get any texts from Rogers that day, but at around 2 AM he hears a soft ding and he pulls himself from sleep to check his phone.

**_I don’t drink, but if I did I’d be drunk texting you right now to even the score._ **

Bucky snorts, eyes still bleary as he types out a reply.

_You got that from an episode of Community._

**_Guilty._ **

He snaps a picture of himself flipping off the camera, sends it off, and goes back to sleep.

They slip back into their normal routine effortlessly after that. And if the texts get a bit more…friendly then there’s nothing wrong with that. And if they end up spending almost every night on the computer with one another it isn’t a big deal. And if Bucky sends a few more selfies than strictly necessary it’s okay because Rogers always responds with something like ‘lookin good Buck’ or the poop emoji so it’s nothing, really.

Until.

“Ugh, seriously, why does everyone think it’s alright to just send pictures of their penises around like this!”

Bucky chokes on his beer and sputters for a moment before responding.

“Come again, Rogers?” He tries not to laugh at his joke and fails.

“I went back to Craigslist—“ Bucky gasps.

“Cheating on me, Rogers? Am I not enough for you anymore?”

“I just wanted someone to talk about art with!” He can practically hear Rogers throwing his hands up in the air. The thought makes him grin.

“Fuck you, Rogers, I know about art.”

“Whatever you say, Bucky,” He can practically hear Rogers roll his eyes. “But seriously, I have never seen so many penises in my life.”

“Well then obviously you’ve been living a sad life my friend.”

“Not really! I’ve seen my fair share of dicks before but this is just ridiculous.”

“Well that’s what you get for going on Craigslist, honestly.”

“But that’s where I met you!”

“Yeah, and before me how many responses were just dick pics?”

There is a heavy silence before he can hear Rogers groan.

“I’m deleting this listing.”

Bucky cackles. And maybe it’s his fifth beer talking but he has a suddenly amazing idea. He hurries to the website and responds to the ad, attaching an image before sending an email out quickly.

“Hey, Rogers, check your email.”

There is a beat of silence before—

“Aw, Jesus, another di—“ Rogers seems to choke on air for a second before he hisses out, “Bucky, _is this your penis?_ ”

Bucky laughs so hard his chest hurts. Rogers stays silent long after the laughter fades, and Bucky realizes he might have just made a Huge Mistake.

“Listen man, I just—“

“Are you…did you take this right now?” Rogers practically whispers.

“Jesus, no, I’m not that quick.” He pauses. “Well, not usually.”

“You mean you just had that picture lying around?”

“Yeah, I mean, you have to have one ready to go.”

“Holy shit, what kind of world is this that everyone is just walking around with pictures of their genitals on their phones so they can have them on quick draw I just can’t---“ Bucky’s laughter prevents him from hearing the rest. Rogers huffs and hangs up the phone. Bucky smiles and finishes his beer before getting ready for bed. He sleeps with a smile on his face only to wake up again to one of Steve’s 2 AM texts.

It takes a moment for it to load, but when it does Bucky chokes on his own saliva.

There, in all its rock hard glory, is Roger’s penis. His hand is wrapped around the considerable base and the tip is flushed and suddenly Bucky’s sleep pants are considerably less roomy.  

“Jesus _fuck._ ” Bucky moans and flops back onto the bed, the image now burned into his eyes. He can’t stop the blush rising up his face. It takes him a while, but when he does text back he is a little breathless and a lot more relaxed.

_As someone who definitely knows about art I’m going to let you know you have a lot of raw talent, but your skills need to be refined. Try practicing more._

**_Sure thing, Buck._ **

And that’s how this thing between them slowly slips from being two friends enjoying TV and movies to two guys trading suggestive texts and too many dick pics. Bucky tries his best to stop himself from creating a folder full of the pictures he gets but in the end he deems them as works of art too beautiful to part with and hordes them all.

They still talk all the time—text, phone, online—but they also do more. And if Bucky’s heart begins to swell whenever he gets a notification on his phone from Rogers he doesn’t think about it too much and he can almost tune out his therapist’s voice in his head telling him to be happy.

That’s why, when his prosthetic starts giving him worse and worse back pain he doesn’t bring it up. This thing between him and Rogers is in a weird happiness bubble that he doesn’t want real life to shatter. So when he has to report to the hospital at fucking four in the morning he is less than thrilled. And when Rogers texts him a rather amazing picture of his penis and he responds in a less than sexy way letting him know all shenanigans are off while he’s busy this morning is his not at all prepared for the Star-Spangled Man to bust into his room at the ass crack of dawn with tousled blonde hair and wild eyes.

He’s been sending Captain America dick pics.

Lord help us all.

\---

So Rogers— _Steve Rogers, fuck me_ \---is standing in the middle of his room, looking anywhere but at Bucky, and Bucky feels his face begin to heat at the thought that he has an entire folder on his phone of pictures of a National Icon’s dick when a nurse bustles in and begins fussing with his chart.

“Well, Mr. Barnes, we’re going to need you to come in again next week but for right now those steroid injections are the best it’s going to get.”

“I don’t see why that required me going to a hospital at this godforsaken hour,” Bucky mumbles. He hears Ro—Steve choke back a laugh. The nurse levels them both with a glare before putting the chart back and sighing.

“You know the rules of the Stark program, Mr. Barnes. You’ve got to come in to see us here for all maintenance on that thing.” She points to his shiny metal arm and levels him with a serious look. “So you better come back next week, alright.” Bucky glares at her, still pissed off at the pain in his back and the appearance of Captain America in his hospital room when—

“He’ll be here, ma’am,” Steve says solemnly. Bucky shoots him a glare and is hit with the sudden realization that the asshole he’s been talking with and the apple pie persona are in fact somehow the same person and he’s a bit dizzy at the thought. The nurse leaves without another word and the two of them let the silence hang heavy around them.

“Listen, Buck, I—“

“How did you know where I was?”

“What?” Captain America finally look him in the eye, clearly confused by the question.

“I said, how did you know where I was?”

“I…” Steve glances away, obviously uncomfortable. Then it hits him.

“Oh my god. Tony Fucking Stark.” Steve winces. “Tony Stark looked me up? It obviously wasn’t too hard, I’m in his medical research trial because of this” he makes a sweeping gesture toward his metal arm and aching shoulder.

“Bucky, just let me—“

“Do the other Avengers know about me too? When Stark found out about me did you all have a laugh at some weird guy spending all his time talking to Captain America and thinking he was just a regular guy?”

“I am just a regular guy, Bucky!” Steve shouts. Bucky falls silent and watches as Steve struggles to speak. “When I met you I was just a lonely guy hoping someone would talk to him. And then you showed up. And you talked, a lot. And it was nice. I had something just to myself that no one needed to know about. Captain America hadn’t found a friend, Steve Rogers did. And I thought about telling you a million times, but it turns out Steve Rogers is a selfish bastard and hates sharing stuff with Captain America, so I kept you in the dark. And I know that’s wrong, I know. But please understand, I was never trying to hurt you. No one knows, well, except Stark now but he didn’t know for long in fact I think I woke him up out of a hangover induced sleep to get him to let Jarvis give me the information and I—“

Bucky is up on his feet and in Steve’s space before his brain can slowly spin to life. He’s got Steve’s collar in his hand and he’s yanking him down hard. Steve’s too blue eyes go wide and then suddenly their lips are crashing together in a kiss that is too messy, too perfect for this wrecked moment. But Bucky is selfish, and wants to be happy, and for a second he can put aside all the shit that they brought here and think about the nights they spent on the phone and the sound of Roger’s laugh and the folder of dick pics on his phone and lose himself in the kiss.

When his lungs are about to burst he pulls away and shoves Steve back a step. Bucky knows he only pulled that off because Steve was so out of it, but he does feel a little bit proud at the sight of Captain America standing there dazed, lips kiss bruised, eyes half lidded, teetering back on his feet.

“I’m still pissed, you asshole.” Bucky glares and wonders if it has the same affect when his cheeks are ruddy and his lips still slick with their spit.

“Let me take you out to breakfast, see if I can make it up to you.” Steve grins sheepishly and Bucky rolls his eyes. He finishes pulling on his shirt and sighs.

“Yeah, alright, let’s see what you got.”

They end up stopping in at a little coffee shop on the way to this breakfast place Steve is raving about. Bucky can’t take any more of this ridiculous, amazing day without some caffeine in him. There are Christmas lights strung up in the shop windows and as they exit soft snowflakes begin to fall.

“Ugh, gross.” Bucky mutters into his cup as he takes a long pull. He glances over to see Steve tapping at his phone for a second before he feels a buzz in his pocket. Bucky rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone. The message loads in and it’s a picture of Captain America’s penis. Bucky chokes on his coffee and Steve Rogers laughs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has shitty timing, in general. He knows this. So it’s no surprise this epiphany comes to him about .5 seconds before Steve is about to bury his cock in Bucky's ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've ever written any sex scenes, so I'm sorry in advance.

Bucky has shitty timing, in general. He knows this. So it’s no surprise this epiphany comes to him about .5 seconds before Steve is about to bury his cock in Bucky's ass. Steve had taken his time breaking him apart for the past hour, slowly marking him up across his skin and fingering him open until Bucky was begging, hot tears stinging the corner of his eyes. Now Steve was finally, finally lining up his dick against the swollen rim of his ass and it came to him like a hot, relentless flash of lighting. 

 

He's in love with Steve Rogers. 

 

Steve slid into him in one slow, long push. Between that and his new realization Bucky couldn’t stop the tears from finally falling down his face. Steve, of course, knows instantly and begins kissing the trail they leave in their wake, gently murmuring reassurances against his skin. 

 

“It’s okay Buck, I’ve got you, let it out.” 

 

And Bucky is helpless to resist. 

 

The thing is, Bucky and Steve haven’t been dating for all that long. Sure, they’d texted forever before they met but Bucky generally doesn’t count their relationship as having started until that weird day Steve busted into his hospital room. It has been just over six months. Way too soon to tell someone he feels these huge, all encompassing feelings he does. 

 

So of course he has to go and open his big mouth, spilling the words out just as Steve finishes bringing him oh so slowly over the edge. 

 

“Stevie, oh, I lov-ah-love you.” He whimpers as white hot pleasure nearly blocks out his senses. Nearly. He retains just enough of his wits to feel Steve freeze against him, and not the good kind of freezing that Bucky knows from experience happens right before Steve topples over the edge into his own mind-blowing orgasam. The haze of pleasure is quickly erased by gut dropping mortification. 

 

“Bucky…” Steve sighs against the skin of his temple. 

 

“Listen, Steve, I know it’s...soon. And I’m sorry for springing this on you like this. But don’t feel obligated to say it back, okay? I know it’s...I know how this is, alright? So please, don’t--” Bucky can tell his voice is taking on a frantic edge. Steve drops a soft kiss against his lips, silencing him in a way that’s so gentle it makes a swell of affection rise in Bucky’s chest. 

 

“You’re...really, really important to me Bucky. Honestly, I care about you so much. I need you to know. You know, right?” 

 

Bucky can’t help the drop of his heart, the deep disappointment he feels despite his reassurances. He had hoped, of course he had hoped. 

“I know, Stevie.” He replies instead of letting out the words he truly wants to say. He slowly moves to sit up. Steve has begun to go soft inside of him, so he slides free with the movement  and Bucky barely holds back a groan at the sensation. Steve gets up and removes his condom, throwing in into the garbage as he makes his way into the bathroom. He brings back a washcloth and gently cleans Bucky off. Bucky’s drowning in his own awkwardness and desperation when Steve crawls back into bed and softly moves him onto his side, spooning up behind him and enveloping in a warm, safe embrace. They lay like that in silence, Bucky endlessly grateful that Steve kept him here despite the weird moment he just had, before Steve’s breathing slowly evens out into the beginnings of sleep. 

 

It’s a long time before Bucky follows him over the edge into blissful oblivion, but just before he does he’s hit with a wave of gratitude that this moment is over. 

 

\--- 

 

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t bring Bucky’s confession up in the morning. Instead they eat a huge breakfast spread prepared by Bucky because Steve doesn’t fucking know how to cook with any kind of flavor before Steve heads off to another day at SHIELD and Bucky heads off to a therapy appointment where he definitely doesn’t bring up the fact that he embarrassed himself in front of a national icon. The press had basically shit itself when they found out about Bucky, so his therapist and all of America knows about his lovelife, but that doesn’t mean he has to tell this woman  _ everything  _ about his life. She knows something is off, of course, and tries to coax it out of him but Bucky is no quitter and he likes to think he’s pretty good at suppressing his emotions (but not with a dick near his ass, apparently) so he keeps it in check until he’s out on the sidewalk, making his way slowly back home, until he gets a text from Steve. 

 

_ Something came up at work. I probably won’t be around much for a while, I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to respond by phone either, but you can try reaching out to me whenever. You know I’ll do my best to respond. I’m so sorry.  _

 

Bucky stops in the middle of the sidewalk to process the text. He knows Steve wouldn’t just make up some work thing to avoid Bucky and his uncomfortable feelings. He knows this, but the timing is pretty shit and his heart aches in his chest. His walk home goes even more slowly after that, and he is a little ashamed at how long he spends flopped face down on his rattly old couch, wallowing in the pain and disappointment of the last twenty four hours before he can’t stand another minute alone with his thoughts. He finds himself calling up Becca on skype before he really realizes what he’s doing and instantly regrets it. His mouse is hovering over the end call button but it’s too late because Becca has already answered with a huge grin across her face. 

 

“Bucky! We’re not supposed to talk until tomorrow, what’s the occasion?” Her grin is so genuine and therapy sucks, okay? And Steve doesn’t love him and he didn’t really sleep that well, and his sister has a way of weedling into his the softest, dumbest part of his heart so it’s honestly not a surprise when tears spring into the corner of his eyes and a whimper rips it’s way from his chest. 

 

“Oh god, Bucky, what happened?!” Becca is instantly frantic, and it makes the big brother part of his mind kick in. 

 

“Nothing, nothing Becca. Nothing big, anway.” He feels like an ass, because he knows how much his depression after the arm thing made Becca worry and he promised himself he’d never make her sad like that again so it totally isn’t fair of him to bring this to her. 

 

“Nothing big my ass.” Becca fixes him with a stern look and Bucky is abashed. “Seriously, spill. What’s wrong?” 

 

“It’s honestly so stupid…” Bucky sighs. 

 

He hedges for a while, but it doesn’t take Becca long to get the story out of him. He obviously leaves out the part where Steve railed him, but that isn’t the important part of the story anyway and Becca’s look of sympathy is enough to make another wave of shame wash over him. This past day hasn’t been his finest. She offers encouraging words, and Bucky knows she’s trying her best, but he doesn’t feel all that much better when they finally get off the phone. 

 

Steve isn’t ignoring him, right? 

 

\---

 

Bucky knows Steve definitely isn’t ignoring him, and all it took to make him believe that was the release of all of SHIELD’s secrets and huge ships crashing to the earth in D.C. Bucky watches the news coverage with his heart in his throat. He can’t help but worry about Steve. The crashes are huge, and the press is frantic, and Bucky knows Steve is technically a super soldier but he’s seen the guy make the dumbest pouty faces whenever he knocks his leg against Bucky’s bed frame on accident so he feels pretty justified in worrying that something huge is wrong with his boyfriend. Especially since they haven’t talked in days. He understands what Steve meant when he said he’d be out of contact, but Bucky would have felt a lot better if he’d at least gotten a text in the past few days. 

  
Okay. So Steve has a pretty good reason not to text. But he could have at least said good--

 

Bucky stops the thought before he gets too horribly depressed. If Steve didn’t send that text, things can’t be that bad, right? 

 

He sees the wreckage of SHIELD and isn’t reassured in the slightest. 

 

\---

There’s another day of gut wrenching silence before Bucky is the one busting into a (highly secured) hospital room. Steve is sitting up in bed, surprise flashing across his features, before Bucky is on him, kissing him within an inch of his life. Steve responds immediately like he always does and Bucky can’t help the swell of love in his chest. 

 

Love, and anger. 

 

“You DICK!” He pushes away roughly, leaving Steve dazed, face still slack in the echo of their kiss. “Twenty four hours and no one tells me you’re in the hospital?!” 

 

“Well, to be fair, there was a bit of a scramble--” 

 

“I’m your boyfriend! I was sitting in my apartment like some kind of wife waiting for her husband to come home from war!” Steve frowns and Bucky rolls his eyes. “Okay, whatever you’re thinking just stop. I seriously thought you were dead!”

 

“Bucky, come here.” Steve gives him his best puppy dog eyes, and they’re generally pretty persuasive, but Bucky is in full tilt ranting and he can’t be stopped. 

 

“I saw those ships Steve, and I fucking knew you were in them, I  _ knew _ \--” 

 

“Bucky, get over here--”

 

“And don’t bother denying it, Sam told me everything--” 

 

Steve is up, ripping out needles from his veins and Bucky is half a second away from escalating his rant due to Steve’s stupidity before lips are crashing into his with a desperation Bucky reciprocates immediately. He honestly thought he wouldn’t feel these lips against his ever again and here they are, clawing at each other in the middle of a hospital room. Bucky brings his hands up to thread into the hairs at the back of Steve’s head and finds them grimey with dirt from whatever the hell happened but he doesn’t care because  _ Steve is alive. _

 

“I love you.” Steve whispers against his lips desperately. “I do, Buck. And I know it’s dangerous to love me. That I’m setting you up for heartbreak because when I go I know I’m going out in a big mess like this one, but when I was falling from that helicarrier--”

 

“You FELL from a helicarrier?!” Bucky exclaims as he pushes back from Steve’s embrace. Steve pulls him back instantly, kissing him again. 

 

“When I was falling, all I could think about was your face when I didn’t say it back and how much I should have, even though I know it’s selfish to put you in this position. I know it makes me a messed up person, but I love you and I don’t want to keep that to myself.” 

 

Bucky rests his forehead against Steve’s, helpless to stop the grin spreading out across his face. 

 

Steve  _ loves  _ him. 

 

Bucky kisses him again. Their kiss turns from desperate from fear to hot and needy and Steve’s hands are moving up under his shirt, shucking it off and maneuvering them backwards until Bucky is flipped around and pushed into the hospital bed. A groan punches out of his chest as Steve kisses down his neck, sucking marks into his skin as his fingers fumble with the button on his jeans and they’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t hear the click of the door--

 

“MISTER ROGERS!” A scandalized voice shrieks from the doorway. “What exactly do you think you’re doing in this room?! You need to stop right this instant, you’ll tear your stitches.” Steve drops his head against Bucky’s chest and Bucky can feel Steve’s cheeks heating up and he can’t hold back his peel of laughter. Steve lifts his head up to frown at Bucky. 

 

“You have exactly one minute to get presentable before I come back in here and there better be  _ no  _ funny business while I’m outside this room, do you hear me?” 

 

“Yes ma’am.” Steve responds glumly. The door closes with another click and Steve drops a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead before he stands with a groan. 

 

“Yeah Stevie, don’t pull your stitches--” Steve flips him off over his shoulder as he stoops to pick up Bucky’s shirt. He tosses it at him with a bit of force and Bucky oofs for show before slipping the shirt back over his shoulders. Steve pulls him to his feet and wraps him in his arms. 

 

“I love you.” Bucky says with a smile and a matching grin splits across Steve’s face, lighting up his eyes with emotion. 

 

“I love you too.” 

 

When the nurse makes her way back in Steve has his hands roaming around under Bucky’s shirt and Bucky can’t be bothered to care about the scandalized noise she makes. 

 

He’s in love with Steve Rogers, and Steve loves him back. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter literally came to me in a dream so I got up at 4 AM to write about these two idiots in love. 
> 
> Speaking of love, all the love you guys have shown this story seriously makes me the happiest writer alive. Every kudo and comment makes me grin like a fool. If you want to make me happy please, please let me know if you liked this chapter! 
> 
> And, as always, you can rant to me at meeptastic.tumblr.com <3

**Author's Note:**

> Stranger Things is amazing. 
> 
>  
> 
> Find me at meeptastic.tumblr.com


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